


Never the Twain Shall Meet

by rixsig-writes (rixsig)



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Parallel Universes, fluff too don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 22:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20015806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rixsig/pseuds/rixsig-writes
Summary: He falls in love, instantly. But of course it isn't quite so simple as that.





	Never the Twain Shall Meet

**Author's Note:**

> dances a jig LOVE TO TORTURE MYSELF BY WRITING AUS ON A DEADLINE, I REALLY DO
> 
> written for the round 2 eso, prompt 20: people falling in love across parallel universes
> 
> i am so sorry

There are times, Shu admits with regret, when one must go outside. There are legs to be stretched, groceries to be gotten, and Kagehira had whined in the most grating way that he would ‘do somethin’’ if Shu didn’t extract himself from his sewing room in the next hour. Shu had possessed no desire whatsoever to find out what this nebulous ‘something’ was. 

And so he is outside. 

Shu squints—has the sun always been so bright?—and clutches Mademoiselle closer to his chest. The way to the nearest grocer is ten minutes walking, four of those through the nearby park. He counts every second as he cuts through it, counts imaginary stitches in clothes he hasn’t made yet. The press of human sound is aching against his skull already: the chatter of couples, the squeal of children, the tinny wail of headphones cranked up to their maximum volume. 

This often happens, this sensation of everything being too loud, too close, like Shu’s missing a layer of skin between him and the rest of the world that everyone else seems to have been born with. Mothers pluck ingredients from shelves with boisterous children on their hips, or pick fruit from displays as they argue with friends over the phone, registers beeping harshly in the background. No one else seems particularly bothered. 

Oversensitive is what they called him as a child. Shu hates to be perceived that way. Much better to straighten one’s back and stride forward, tall and proud, like all the noise and mess is from a world that’s beneath h— 

“Woah!"

In an instant Shu is on the ground, bag overturned and contents rolling away because he’d put every spare reflex into shielding Mademoiselle. His leg twinges. Shu doesn’t bother tamping down the grimace, first checking Mademoiselle over for injury and then glaring up, a sharp word ready on his tongue, but—oh…! Oh, every single word flees from his mouth because Shu could swear he’s looking at the sun again, only twice as bright.

“Uh. Hello?” A hand waves in front of Shu’s face, and Shu wrinkles his nose at it. How dare it obscure his view. “Can you hear me?”

“Indigo,” Shu breathes. Yes, that would be a lovely shade on this man. A jacket that nips in neatly at the waist. High boots. 

“Oh no. Wow, okay.” The man takes out a cellphone. “Don’t move? And don’t fall asleep either, that’s bad when you have a concussion, right?

“Don’t be ridiculous, I do _not_ have a concussion,” Shu says. “My head never even touched the floor.” Without waiting for a response Shu staggers up, forgetting the spilled groceries at his feet as he grabs the man’s chin with one authoritative hand, turning the man’s face this way and that. Tousled honey locks, defined features, and sharp yet gentle eyes. 

“Absolutely flawless,” Shu murmurs. “Though perhaps a bit tan.”

“Aha...yeah that happens when you practically live in the ocean. Hey, are you sure I shouldn’t take you to the hospital? Your leg…”

Shu clicks his tongue. “An old injury. Gives me an untold amount of grief. It has nothing to do with you.” 

After a moment an arm slides around Shu’s waist, bracing him. “Y’know, usually I don’t let people get this intimate until the second or third date. But you’re pretty cute~?”

Shu freezes and notices several things at once:

  1. His hands are plucking at the collar of this man’s shirt
  2. He has explained nothing whatsoever of his own thought processes
  3. They are now both in a pseudo-embrace in the middle of a grocery store
  4. The groceries



“My groceries!” Shu exclaims, staring downward in dismay. The tomato is touching the _ground_. Where the soles of the countless unwashed have tread!

The man seems to wilt a little, his other hand scratching at the back of his head. “Yeah, um. Sorry about that. I was just in a rush, and well…” He releases Shu for long enough to kneel down and gather everything—sans the blemished tomato—and put it back in the bag. “I was supposed to meet up with a friend, but I think I’m lost? Everything looks familiar, but I just can’t find where I’m going… Sounds weird, huh.” 

Shu waits for the bag to be handed to him, but the man keeps it on his own arm. 

“I keep trying to text my friend, but it won’t go through. I think he has his phone turned off? Or maybe he forgot to charge it again.” 

“I know this area rather well. I could assist you.” Shu offers without thinking. And perhaps he’s overeager, but he can’t bear the thought of letting this delightful creature go so easily. He wants measurements, a name, to make something for him, to see him again. 

The man brightens up. “Yeah? How about this: you help me out, and I’ll walk you home~”

“I—” Shu has trouble speaking for a moment, cheeks heating. “I suppose...I suppose that is acceptable.” His eyes land on the groceries again, his hand extending. “My bag…?”

“Ah ah~! I’m escorting you remember?” The man winks—absolutely ridiculous, there’s no reason at all that it should make Shu’s heart jump—and then inclines his head to Mademoiselle in Shu’s arms. “Besides, it looks like you’re occupied.”

“‘Oh,’” she chimes in, excited to be noticed, “‘I didn’t want to interrupt, but it’s so nice to meet you!’”

The surprise, Shu expects. He watches and waits for the next step: averted eyes or staring, uncomfortable laughter, stuttering. It often takes people quite a while to warm up to Mademoiselle. Utter nonsense. She’s perfect in every way. But Shu’s prepared to politely overlook it, especially for one as dazzling as— 

“Hey, you didn’t tell me you had such a cutie sitting in your arms!” The man says with a grin. “Nice to meet you too, young lady~”

“‘Ufufu, such a gentleman~’”

And then the man’s arm is going around his waist again, lending support as Shu limps toward the produce to replace the tomato and then to the cashier to pay. It’s much less efficient than his cane, with a sort of closeness and contact that Shu typically finds intolerable, and yet...Shu finds that he likes it. 

The man chatters on about this and that as they walk back through the park, about his friend that detests the sun, his coworker with an inordinate fondness for his katana, his mother that still makes him lunches even though he’s years past being a high schooler now. Shu had always thought silence was more becoming of a person, but he finds himself fascinated nonetheless. The man is such an animated person, and it doesn’t diminish his beauty at all. It’s as if he was born to be in motion. A feather on the wind.

“You said it was on this street, right?”

“Hm? Ah. Yes.”

All too soon they’re on Shu’s doorstep, and the arm is withdrawn from his waist, his bag returned to his hand. Shu gives directions as best as he can—he’s certain the man’s friend provided him with a place name that was just ever so slightly off—and then lingers there at the door. It seems cruel that this moment has to end. 

“You know,” the man says, with a casual lean that looks too perfect to be anything but intentional, “I never got your name.”

Shu’s back goes ramrod straight. He’d _completely_ forgotten to introduce himself. How galling. He clears his throat and inclines his head, his fingers smoothing the pleats of Mademoiselle’s skirt even though nothing is in disarray. “Itsuki Shu, professional costume designer.”

The man’s lips curve into an enchanting smile, his voice light and teasing as he replies, “Hakaze Kaoru, marine biologist.”

* * *

Kaoru tries to find Shu’s house again for _weeks_. And it shouldn’t be that hard, it’s not like he’s the kind of person who gets turned around easy or anything, but no matter what he tries or what memory he follows or what street he turns down the house just never appears. And it’s such a shame because that guy might have been a little weird, but he was so, so, so, so cute. 

“I should have gotten his number…” Kaoru groans, his head thunking down on the table. “Why didn’t I get his phone number? That’s like, rule number one.”

Rei sighs and shifts his parasol a couple inches to the left, sipping at his juice. “Ah, to be young and chasing your passions...But if you haven’t found it, then perhaps it’s not meant to be?”

Kaoru throws a napkin at him. “You don’t get it! He’s so…” He fiddles with another napkin, restlessly folding and unfolding and refolding it again. “I don’t think there’s anyone else like him, you know? And just. The way he’d look at me. I can’t get it out of my mind...”

Rei blinks. “Ah.”

“What?”

“You _are_ the type to fall fast aren’t you, Kaoru-kun.”

“Hey! If you saw him you’d understand!”

Rei hums, idly spinning the parasol in contrast to his intense stare. “Such a wide heart. You’ve never been bothered by even the strangest of us…”

“Yeah, well. Rare things are beautiful, right?” 

* * *

After that lunch Rei leaves to take a nap, and Kaoru takes an aimless stroll. He’s not really paying attention to much of anything at all except the breeze against his face and the clouds in the sky. Maybe he should let it go. Would Shu even remember some random passerby after this long? Would it be weird to show up now? Yeah, he probably shouldn’t— 

Kaoru blinks, and suddenly the clouds in the sky are all in different places. What…? Hold on a second. What?! Kaoru rubs at his eyes, but no, he’s pretty sure that all up there looks different than it did before. He looks around him. Still in a park. Of course he is, it’s not like he could have teleported or any...thing… 

Kaoru’s skin prickles. It’s the same park, but it doesn’t look quite right. He can’t put his finger on why, but it feels off. He turns in a circle. This feeling…

By instinct Kaoru picks a path and starts walking, his feet talking him down a half-remembered route, the park cutting off into streets and then into housing districts.

This unsettling lost feeling...It sort of feels like the day that he’d met…

He finds Shu’s street, his house, and stands on his doorstep. Heart in his throat, he knocks on the door. 

It opens.

Wide lavender eyes stare at him and Kaoru feels his palms start to sweat. Breathe in, breathe out. He can do this. “Hey,” he says, as carefree as he can, “sorry I didn’t call ahead. I don’t think I have your number yet~”

“Hakaze,” Shu breathes, with the most rapturous delight Kaoru has _ever_ seen on a person. “I had wondered if—”

Kaoru’s too busy feeling like he’s been punched in the gut to wonder why Shu cut himself off. 

“Come in!” Shu takes Kaoru by the elbow and tows him inside, briskly closing the door and picking up the ornate cane he’d leaned up against the wall. “There’s something I simply must show you.”

Shu pulls him through the house and into a back room. Lined with shelves full to the brim with bolts of cloth and an old-fashioned sewing machine given a place of honor in the middle, Kaoru can pretty easily guess what this room is for. Shu lets his arm go and ducks to a corner, plucking something from it and striding back with fire in his eyes, the cane making an impressive staccato against the floor. Kaoru receives an armful of fabric. An outfit?

“I had to make due with guessing at your measurements, but now that you’re here it will be easy to make adjustments.” Shu motions with his hand. “Go on.”

“Uhhhh…?”

Shu’s brows draw together as if in sudden realization. “Is it...not to your taste…?”

“No, no!” Kaoru says, not having looked at it yet. “Uh, you want me to...wear it? Right now?”

“Well yes, how else am I to make alterations?”

Kaoru swallows. “Okay.”

The shirt is only half on when the door to the sewing room bursts open.

“Oshi-san, Oshi-san! That cafe had those real special croissants ya like! I went ‘n got you s—” The black-haired man squawks mid-sentence, hands frozen in the motion of holding a pastry bag above his head. “H...Hakaze Kaoru?!!!!”

“Yes??” Kaoru says, blindsided. 

The man rounds on Shu, clutching the pastry bag to his chest and shoving a finger in Kaoru’s direction. “Why’s _he_ here?!” 

Shu sniffs disdainfully. “Because I invited him in of course. Honestly, what kind of straw is packed in that head of yours?” He turns to Kaoru, still seeming a little ruffled. “I wasn’t aware the two of you were acquainted.”

“We’re not though??”

“Oshi-san, I thought ya said you didn’ wanna make any costumes for any washed up idols!”

“Idol? What on earth are you blabbering about now? He’s not an idol, he’s a marine biologist. He told me himself.” 

Shu takes a long minute to stiffly bend to his knees, and Kaoru pretends really hard both that Shu’s hands on his thighs won’t feature in his dreams for the next ten days and that he isn’t currently being glared to death by that black-haired guy still hovering a few feet away. “Yeah, I really don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” the guy scowls, “You were all super popular an’ then there was that scandal an’ then you quit. What’re you playin’ at, huh? You tryin’ to use Oshi-san? I bet ya know how famous his outfits are, don’t ya.”

“Kagehira!” Shu snaps. “Leave this instant. I won’t have you yapping rudely at guests like an untrained dog.”

“But—!”

“Now, Kagehira.”

Kagehira huffs, marches out of the room, and then stops in the hall.

“Kagehira....”

“I’m outta the room!”

“You are _testing_ my patience.” 

With a copious amount of grumbling, he finally leaves them in peace. 

“I apologize,” Shu says stiffly. “He likely mixed you up with someone else, there’s barely anything useful between his ears.”

Then how did he know my name, Kaoru doesn’t say.

“Although,” Shu continues, a hand sliding appreciatively down Kaoru’s calf, voice wistful, “you really do have the perfect physique to be an idol. I can see how one would make that assumption.”

Shu tries to lever himself up from the floor and nearly stumbles. Kaoru catches him, pulls him up until suddenly they’re face to face with barely any space between them. Kaoru’s breath catches in his throat. “Aha...you think so? I might have thought about it a little when I was a kid.”

“I did as well,” Shu says quietly. “But obviously that dream ended before it even began.”

Kaoru winces. He can picture it though, the sheer force of this person on stage. Wearing his own outfits, moving with complete precision, and always, always, being like no one else in the world. “I bet you would have flipped the whole idol scene upside-down.”

Shu smiles, a bitter, pleased thing, “I would have.” His hands fastidiously button up Kaoru’s new shirt, his smile becoming less strained at the way Kaoru shivers when his nails graze his throat. “I suppose it’s a blessing I was gifted with more than one passion, or else I might not have survived it. But let’s abandon this subject. I’d rather not talk about childhood cruelties. There’s little point.”

Shu’s hands slide down Kaoru’s chest, and Kaoru has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making an embarrassing noise.

“I’d much rather focus on what’s ahead.”

Kaoru’s hands settle at Shu’s narrow hips. Less because it’s the smooth thing to do and more because he feels like he could fall right over at any minute. “On what’s ahead, huh,” he tries to tease, fishing for a concrete answer. “Does that mean you’re focusing on me~?”

Shu’s sharp eyes sparkle with amusement. “I’d thought that was obvious.”

Later when Kaoru looks back on it he won’t remember who kissed who first. He’ll just remember the cling of Shu’s lips, the warmth of his hand cradling Kaoru’s jaw. 

* * *

Kaoru finally gets Shu’s number, but it doesn’t even work a good 70% of the time. Figures that he’d start dating someone who’s almost as bad at that sort of thing as Rei. But when they do go through he gets back long, novel-length responses that read more like letters than text messages. Kaoru’s half tempted to print them out and bundle them up with twine or something, just to fit the ambience. 

[Kaoru]: isn’t the coloring on this little guy so cute?! i found him in a tide pool today ヾ(≧∇≦)ゞ

-image attch: sea-urchin.jpg-

[♡♡♡Shu♡♡♡]: Good lord, don’t tell me you touched that thing. Aren’t those venomous? I suppose you’d know how to handle those kinds of creatures, but still, I’d be incredibly distressed if something happened to you. You are exercising proper caution, aren’t you? The ocean has an incredible number of dangerous wildlife. Not to mention infection…! Kagehira sliced his foot open on a piece of improperly disposed of glass the last time I was persuaded to go, and I swear I nearly had a heart attack right then and there. Honestly, leaving smashed glass bottles in the sand, what are people thinking? 

[Kaoru]: i’m being careful, i promise~ ♡

[Kaoru]: it does look neat though, doesn’t it?

[♡♡♡Shu♡♡♡]: Well. Yes.

The next week Shu sends him a picture of a jacket he made with the exact same color scheme. 

* * *

Kaoru has less and less trouble finding Shu’s house as time goes on, which is great because he’d _die_ if he set up a date and then couldn’t show up because he got lost. It’s weird though, after he picks Shu up he can never seem to find that neat cafe or restaurant or garden he wants to take him to. And it’s not a bad thing to be spontaneous or to go to one of the places Shu already knows and likes, but he’s starting to wonder if Shu thinks he’s a little bit ditzy. 

It can’t be too much of a point against him though, because months later they’re still together and Kaoru’s the happiest he’s been in his life.

* * *

Today is a good day for his leg, so the cane rests neatly in the umbrella stand while Shu putters around the kitchen, getting breakfast ready. Kagehira helps by chopping vegetables to his left. He’s vastly improved at it in the years since they’ve been living together.

Shu’s phone dings. 

“Ah,” Shu says, reading through it quickly while he lets the pan heat. “Kaoru will be over tonight. You might prefer to spend your time at one of your friend’s places.” Shu looks up and clicks his tongue. “Now don’t give me that look. You’re the one that grimaces like you’ve guzzled a glass of lemon juice every time he so much as looks at me.”

Kagehira’s look intensifies. Although now that Shu’s looking more closely, it appears more confused than anything else. “Ngh? Who’s Kaoru?”

“Who’s—” Shu sets his spatula down on the counter with an inelegant clatter. “Don’t be ridiculous, you know very well who Kaoru is. We’ve been courting each other for months.”

Kagehira’s head tilts. “Courtin’? Wait, Oshi-san, you’re dating someone and ya didn’ tell me?!”

Shu turns the burner off and rounds on him. “Non! Whatever game you’re attempting to play I am not playing it! Cut it out this once.”

Kagehira grabs at his own head with a groan. “Oshi-san, I really don’t get what you’re talkin’ about. I’m know I’m real dumb, so can ya just tell me who it is?”

Shu pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, trying to find his patience. “Hakaze Kaoru. Light hair? About my height? Incredibly charming smile? Surely you—”

“You know Hakaze Kaoru?!” Kagehira gapes. “But wouldn’ ya hate someone like him?!”

Shu freezes. This again. This fiction that Kaoru is someone else. But by looking at Kagehira’s face Shu can tell he believes it wholeheartedly. Kagehira honestly remembers nothing about Kaoru’s visits. Shu strides a step forward and grabs his face in his hands, poking and prodding for any possible bumps on his skull. Nothing. Is it internal? Does he need to go to the hospital?!

“Oshi-sannnnn, lemme go!” Kagehira swats at him. “What’s with ya? You’re actin’ real weird.”

Shu can’t find a single word to say to that. 

* * *

Kagehira never regains those memories. Each time he sees Kaoru he acts as if he’s never met him before, and each time Kaoru leaves Kagehira immediately forgets he was there. Shu’s more than ready to drag him unwillingly to the hospital when he notices something even stranger still. 

It isn’t just Kagehira. 

Waitstaff at restaurants comment on how unusual it is that Shu is bringing in someone new. Kanata and Natsume act as if they’d never heard a _single_ monologue on the brilliance of Kaoru’s features, no matter how willing Shu is to refresh them. 

He has no explanation for Kaoru when he asks with that nervous laugh in his voice. It’s like the world itself is rejecting Kaoru’s existence in it. 

* * *

On an uneventful Sunday Shu sits on the couch with a skein of yarn and his knitting needles. There is a cup of tea steaming on the side table, there are no pressing deadlines, Kagehira is quietly watching television...it should be the perfect atmosphere for relaxation. 

And yet. 

“Kagehira,” he says, needles pausing, “there wasn’t anything important scheduled for tonight, was there?”

“Nn? Can’t think of anythin’, Oshi-san.

Unsurprising. But Shu relaxes nevertheless. 

Some odd minutes later his phone dings. Shu ignores it. Business matters can wait until the next day. 

“‘Shu-kun,’” Mademoiselle pipes up. “‘Don’t you want to see who that is?’”

Shu’s needles pause again. Does he? That persistent itch in the back of his mind grows stronger. Well. It wouldn’t hurt to check. He sets his project down, grabs his phone. The message is labeled: Kaoru. It sounds vaguely familiar. Kaoru, Kaoru...does he know a Kao— 

Shu shrieks.

* * *

“Oshi-san! Oshi-san, what’re ya doing?!”

Shu ignores him and tears through the house, ripping a drawer out from the desk and nearly upending it in his haste to retrieve the stationary, pens and envelopes falling like rain to the floor. He crouches down to pick a pen up and then finds he can’t get up, so he writes right then and there on the floor. This can’t happen again, it _can’t_ , Shu won’t allow it.

_You love a man named Hakaze Kaoru. He’s warm and sensitive and beautiful in ways you can never fully describe, no matter how hard you try._

He fills pages and pages this way.

* * *

Shu’s memory hops and skips and runs away from him, but he holds onto it with a tightfisted grip, reading and rereading his letters to himself until they become thin and delicate in his hands. It seems like it’s been a long time since Kaoru’s visited, but it’s hard to tell this way. It seems like Kaoru’s beginning to forget too.

[Kaoru]: wow, i put a lot of hearts around your name

[Kaoru]: looks like i like you a lot, haha~

[Itsuki Shu]: I should hope so. After all, I’m quite enamored with you.

A pause. Has he embarrassed him? Or is their connection blocked yet again? Shu draws Mademoiselle close for comfort, curling up and pushing his face up against her hair like he used to as a child. 

[Kaoru]: shu…

[Kaoru]: i don’t know if i can find your house anymore

Shu blinks wetness from his eyes as another message comes in with a ding. A picture of a map, with a small circle drawn on it.

[Kaoru]: this is where i live

[Kaoru]: do you recognize any of it?

Recognize it? Yes, somewhat. But it’s distressingly wrong. Like someone took the roadwork of Shu’s own area and dropped it on the floor by accident, leaving it twisted and skewed. The landmass, however, is largely the same. Shu could likely pinpoint the corresponding location in his own maps. 

[Kaoru]: do you think, um

[Kaoru]: do you think you could try finding me?

[Itsuki Shu]: Of course. Of course I’ll find you.

* * *

Shu checks and doublechecks, takes his cane from the stand, and goes for a walk. Map in hand he follows the path he’d painstakingly drawn on top of it, going first by broad avenues, then by smaller residential roads, and then eventually he finds it: a broad patch of undeveloped land. His nose scrunches in distaste at the state of a fallen tree trunk, but he briskly wipes off the debris and sits on it. 

From here he doesn’t know what to expect. He’d tried to consult Natsume on the matter, but the boy had only listened to a few details before he’d gotten a forlorn look on his face saying, ‘Shu-niisan...it might be best to let this one go.’

He can’t. He refuses to. Instead he waits there for hours.

* * *

Shu isn’t sure how he got here, but his leg is stiff and the sun is beginning to set, so he must have been waiting for quite a while. Though why on earth he’d choose to wait in a place like this is a mystery to him. This does seems to be happening with increasing regularity though, these unusual gaps in his memory. Stress is what the doctors tell him. Most of Shu’s problems seem to trace their roots back to stress. 

He retrieves his phone, both to check the time and to reassure Kagehira that he is, in fact, not dead, but the screen stays black. Out of power. He should really be returning home before it goes completely dark out here. 

He finds himself strangely reluctant to move.

Actually the very idea of moving is making him nauseous.

So Shu crosses his arms and waits as the chill sets in, as the full moon peeks up past the branches. Something is coming. Something important. It has to. He can feel it in his soul.

A twig snaps. A person stumbles in the dark. “Huh? Um, what?”

That voice stabs right through Shu’s heart like a lance. 

“I thought I heard something outside.” The person shuffles in a circle. “Where’d my apartment go? Wow, this is a weird dream...”

Shu rises from his seat, eyes fixed on the man, his heartbeat so fast he feels dizzy. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. His name. What was this man’s name again?

“Is. Is someone there? Waiting in the dark to scare people isn’t very nice you know~”

“Ridiculous,” Shu says, fondness leaking uncontrollably from his voice. “What sort of fool would wait this long for a thing like that.”

The man’s eyes finally find him, and he stares, shaken. “You...Wait. I know you. Why…?” He sniffs, touches his face. His cheeks begin to gleam in the moonlight. “Why do I feel so _sad_?”

Shu takes a step forward, tries again for the man’s name. He knows it. It’s there, just barely out of reach. Some impulse has his hand slipping into his pocket, and he feels paper against his fingertips. Stationery paper, worn and tearing. With a sense of elation he takes another step forward, the name finally in his mouth. 

“Kaoru,” he breathes.

Kaoru jolts, the realization like lightning. “Shu!”

They both stagger and stumble and collide, grasping hard at each other and swaying like they’ve found a new orbit. Their kisses are wet with tears, but they don’t mind, pulling back only to trace features that are both familiar and unfamiliar, relearning things they must somehow already know by heart. 

“I can’t believe you actually did it,” Kaoru laughs, burying a tear-stained face in Shu’s shoulder. “You actually found me.”

“I gave my word that I would.”

Kaoru hums. His hold tightens almost painfully. He says in a small voice, like he’s afraid of being heard, “What now?”

Shu’s ashamed to not have an answer.

* * *

They resolve not to part, not even for a second, but eventually they fall asleep together leaning against the tree trunk, and when Shu wakes he is alone.

Kagehira makes a terrible fuss at the state of him when he returns, dirt-stained and covered in grass, dozens of unread messages on his dead phone, but Shu barely reacts. He just retreats to his room, changes his clothes, and crawls under the blankets on his bed, clutching Mademoiselle to him.

“Please,” he begs. “Please don’t let me forget.”

He repeats it over and over like a prayer, and just when he’s on the verge of slumber he thinks he hears her finally answer back.

“‘Shhh. Don’t worry, Shu-kun. I’ll remember for you.’”

* * *

Fall turns into winter and Shu is deep in the holiday rush, completing commissions for clients that need something special for their Christmas or New Year’s performances. 

“Oshi-san, dontcha think you should take a break? It’s been hours an’ hours an’ hours...”

Shu blinks owlishly at the clock. Ah. So it has. With a reluctant sigh he sets down his work. “I’m taking a walk. I’ll be back shortly.”

He picks up his cane, and after a slight hesitation, Mademoiselle as well. He’s not in the best state right now. Stress, the doctors tell him. But it doesn’t feel like mere stress. He’s been inconsolable for months and can’t figure out why. He hasn’t felt this way in years, not since his leg was broken just before the start of high school. 

With an irritable shake of his head he leaves, wandering aimlessly. There’s a bench he’s rather fond of in the park, perhaps he’ll sit there for a wh— 

“Hey, hey, can you maybe go sit somewhere else~? I don’t really want to be around any guys right now.”

Shu freezes. That voice. Something about that voice. He stares at the man like a deer in the headlights. He’s so _achingly_ familiar somehow. 

“What? Are you an old fan from my idol days? Too bad you’re not a cute girl. Oh well.”

“I am _not_ a fan. I don’t even know you.” Or does he? Something seems missing though. He has the impression that this man should be...lighter, freer. Happier, somehow. But frankly he looks rather miserable. “Are you...alright?”

The man stiffens. “Haha, what are you talking about? I guess I’m just not in the mood to be bothered by some strange guy, you know?”

Shu presses his lips together, at a loss. Perhaps he’s just getting delirious from lack of sleep. He may be beautiful, but there’s no way Shu would ever willingly associate with a man like this. He should just leave him to his own devices. Shu sighs. “Come along, Mademoiselle.”

The man perks up. “Mademoiselle…? What’s that, French?”

Shu clicks his tongue. “It hardly matters to you, does it?”

“‘Now now, Shu-kun. There’s no need to get so defensive~’”

“Woah?!”

The surprise, Shu expects. He watches and waits for the next step: averted eyes or staring, uncomfortable laughter, stuttering. This man might be even worse, might decide to mock him. Shu’s prepared for every scenario. 

Except for this one. 

“Hey, you didn’t tell me you had such a cutie sitting in your arms!” The man says, face suddenly softening as he grins. “Nice to meet you, young lady~”

  
“Fufu. Nice to meet you too...Kaoru-kun♪”


End file.
